The End Continues
by Alex L. Kerr
Summary: Future!Dean didn't die in that cemetery. S05E04 The End: canon divergence.
1. Chapter 1

Writer's Note: Tag to S05E04 ("The End") & canon divergence. I wrote this awhile ago to a livejournal prompt and rediscovered it in my files. I have no idea who prompted it though - I had just c&p'd the prompt and not the prompter (because I'm stupid). So please: if you recognize the prompt, I'll give credit super immediately. Here it is: "5x04 AU. Past!Dean is still in 2014, and future!Dean is still alive. Somehow they rescue Sam. Sam is recovering in Chitaqua, _and the Deans kind of compete for his attention and growl jealously at each other for the chance to take care of Sam._" The italicized portion is not featured in this story. A different dynamic surfaced!

Thanks!

* * *

"I win, so I win," Lucifer said, a slight smile pinching the corners of Sam's mouth.

"You're wrong," Dean promised, a tear sliding down his cheek and dropping to the earth.

"See you in five years, Dean."

Lucifer turned his back on him, leaving Dean bereft of hope.

Out of the corner of Dean's eye, he saw his own dead body suddenly grab the colt and roll over on the ground to angle it at their brother.

"Lucifer!" He shouted, pure fury in his voice. At the sound, Lucifer turned around sporting Sam's confused expression. The colt exploded and Dean watched, stunned, as Lucifer actually jolted backwards clutching his stomach. He stumbled until he hit the building's exterior and hunched over in... _pain_. Dean watched his future self stand up slowly and start bearing down. Lucifer whipped his head up and stared at him with hatred.

"_You_," he spat, blood starting to cover his lips.

Dean could see Sam's white suit turn deep red as Lucifer covered the gunshot wound with Sam's hands. He watched in horror as his future self blocked his view of Sam as he stepped directly in front of their little brother's crouched body.

"Yeah," his future self said harshly, cocking the colt for another shot, "Me." He directed the gun straight at Sam's head, triggering his past self.

"NO!" Dean shouted desperately as he started running towards them.

"DEAN!" A voice cried out. It was Sam's voice. It was _their_ Sam.

Dean ran faster and watched his future self hesitate, staring down the barrel at his brother.

"Dean! _Shoot me_! _NOW!_" Sam gasped. "_Do it! " _Sam begged once more before collapsing to the ground. "God, please," Sam sobbed, curling his body against the mud as the rain continued to pour down on them. "He's still in me, Dean, _please!_"

It was a cruel mimic of their father the night he'd been possessed all those years ago. Sam hadn't been able to do it but Dean had no doubts that his future self could.

Just as Dean reached them, he heard his own low voice.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he said and lifted the colt to fire.

"NO!" Dean shouted as he reached out and ripped his future self back by the collar, jerking him off his feet and landing him back on the ground. "SAM, FIGHT HIM!" Dean yelled at his crippled brother as he stepped over his future self and landed a punch to the face before grabbing the colt from his limp hand. He turned around and slid into the mud at Sam's side.

"SHOOT ME!" Sam cried, his face contorted into pure pain and anguish. Dean bent over his brother, looping an arm underneath his torso and cradling his neck and head with his hand. Sam cried out in pain but leaned into Dean, grabbing his brother's jacket.

"Sh-shoot-" He gasped.

"He's still inside?"

Sam's panicked eyes stared into Dean and he nodded.

"De- Dean, p-please. Kill me," he whispered weakly.

Dean bit his lip and felt tears rolling down his face as he pulled Sam into his arms. Sam shouted out in pain.

"Shh," Dean's voice trembled, "It's okay, hold on to me, Sam," he whispered as he braced Sam tightly in his arms.

"Kill me," Sam whispered back, "Kill me now, Dean."

"Just hold tight," Dean said, his voice strangled as he pushed the Colt's barrel against Sam's shoulder.

"Deep breaths, Sam, c'mon do them with me," he coached. On the third breath, Dean fired and felt Sam's body buck in pain and scream directly into his ear. He grabbed Sam and held him as his brother rode out the shock and pain of the wound now in his shoulder.

"God damn it," Dean cried, realizing it hadn't worked.

"Dean," Sam whimpered, grasping at his brother. "I'm sorry - I'm so sorry - let me die, _please_!"

Dean realized Sam thought he was torturing him for having said yes. He looked into Sam's terrified hazel eyes and wiped the kid's hair back from his face. His hands were bloody.

"Shh, Sammy, no," Dean sniffed, holding Sam's head steady and secure, "I'm trying to get him _out._ I'm so sorry-" Dean choked as he pulled the trigger again.

The Colt went off again and Sam screamed in pain, jolting under Dean's hold as the pain in his thigh - the next location Dean had decided to shoot - exploded out and shot pain up and down his entire body.

Suddenly a white light began to emit from Sam's eyes and mouth and Sam began to seize in Dean's arms.

"C'mon, Sammy, c'mon," Dean repeated over and over as he rocked Sam in his arms, watching the white light start to stream out of him. "Oh god," Dean gasped as he noticed the light wasn't completely leaving Sam's body alone.

Without spending time to think on it, Dean shot the Colt into Sam's other shoulder. He felt Sam's body shake at the impact.

"_Get OUT of him, you bastard_!" Dean screamed.

And just as fast as it had started, it stopped. The light disappeared and Sam's body sagged into Dean's arms. The rain kept falling. The sky thundered. Dean dropped the Colt dumbly and checked Sam's pulse. It was barely there... but it was there.

"What did you do?" Dean heard his own threatening voice behind him. Dean turned his head to shout back at himself.

"He's still alive! I need your help!" Dean shouted, turning back to Sam. The rain and his own tears were blurring his vision, but he laid Sam down on the ground and pulled his jacket off. He saw his future self step over to Sam's other side, studying Sam as if he'd never seen him before.

"C'MON!" Dean yelled, wrapping his jacket around one of Sam's shoulders to keep pressure on the wound. His future self looked up at him and Dean saw the disbelief in his own eyes.

* * *

Cas limped down the rickety stairs to the basement in one of the compound's main buildings. It was a little further off along the forested southwest edge of camp. Usually reserved for supply surpluses, it had been empty and unused for awhile. It was musty and dry, the earthy smell pungent given that the floor was packed dirt.

Cas shifted his arm and winced as he reached the landing. He pushed the fabric of his sling wider on his shoulder and pushed on. He could hear low voices in one of the chambers and moved in that direction.

Cas's breath caught at the sight of the man who'd said yes to Lucifer. Unconscious, lying on a cot with Past-Dean sitting on the edge, palm resting protectively on his chest. An IV of blood stood nearby - pumping into the man to keep him alive. _His_ Dean, the one meant for these times, was off to the side somewhere beyond his line of sight. As he approached, he could hear what they were saying - their voices echoing around the subterranean level.

"- and you get outta dodge-"

"Where?! The croats are _everywhere_ and I can't leave my people-"

"Your _loyalty_ stands with-"

"Bull shit. My loyalty to Sam ended with his. _He _said, 'yes,' to Lucifer. _He_ brought all this upon us."

Cas stumbled to the threshold of the chamber and glanced in to see _his_ Dean sitting at a small table. He held the Colt steady and angled at Sam. He looked up, immediately sensing Cas's presence.

"Cas."

Cas winced and gave a sarcastic wave as he moved into the chamber and settled down onto a wooden chair next to the door. He sighed and looked at the two of them. He was exhausted, but he knew he had to be here.

"Dean," he said tiredly. He got both of them to look directly at him. "No, _now_ Dean."

"Yeah?"

"Put the gun down. Lucifer's not in 'im."

Now-Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Doesn't mean he won't wake up and say, 'yes,' again," he replied, dripping contempt. Cas pursed his lips and folded into himself defensively.

"Just what exactly do you think went down in Detroit, huh?" The other Dean piped up. Cas turned to look at the alternate version from the past. His aura was... so different. So much softer. So much more love in him than the current Dean. As if in evidence of Cas's observation, Past-Dean moved his hand up to Sam's neck, then head. Soft touches and gentle reassurances of his presence even though Sam was unconscious.

"You think Sam _wanted_ to say 'yes'? You think he was given a _choice_?"

"_Weren't we?!_" His Dean shouted, standing up in anger so he could tower over the past version of himself - and his brother.

Cas watched with fascination as Past-Dean moved to cover Sam's body with his own, perceiving _his _Dean as a threat.

"Sit down, Dean," Cas ordered lazily. "Sam is unconscious. You don't shoot unarmed men."

"Huh," Now-Dean huffed skeptically as he turned back to the chair. Past-Dean turned around to look at Cas.

"You don't shoot _unarmed men_?!" Past Dean repeated, outraged, "How about you don't_ shoot your fucking brother_!" He yelled back at... himself. Cas saw _his_ Dean flinch at the sound of his own voice shouting at him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Past-Dean asked, sounding sick to his stomach. _His_ Dean was about to speak up but Cas got there first.

"_Sam's absence_ happened to him, Dean."

Both of them looked back at him and Cas shifted in his chair. He felt like he owed _his_ Dean an apology, but he knew he was only speaking the truth.

"Dean," he said quietly, speaking to Now-Dean: "Sam suffered in Detroit. And you weren't there to save him. Lucifer _broke_ your brother."

Cas stopped, knowing his words stung.

He looked over to Past-Dean, the Dean that seemed to be pouring every ounce of energy into his little brother. The Dean that exuded that magnetic, intense force of goodness... Cas had forgotten how much he had cared for Dean.

He sighed and looked back to _his_ Dean.

"If you can manage it, take a lesson from your younger self here," Cas sighed as he stood up, "and try to remember what it was like to save lives and not sacrifice them," he finished wearily as he stepped out of the chamber.

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Writer's Note: Thank you for reading! Please comment/review if you can!


	2. Chapter 2

**Writer's note:** I just self-published my first story on amazon! (It's _totally_ worth 99 cents, I swear!) Also just updated my website like whoa, so if you're interested in checking out _either _of those things, visit my bio page for the links _or _just hop on over to alexlkerr dot com. Thank you!

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Piercing screeches and blasting noises: it was like a wind tunnel with shards of glass and rusted metal speeding, churning, slashing into him and slicing his mind into pure agony. Brilliant white lights blinded him as they strobed in and out with no rhythm or sense. Everything colliding, everything pain, disorientation, overwhelming and suffocating.

"Sam."

The voice cut through and suddenly everything went black. Sam could feel his body. He could feel himself breathing - hyperventilating.

"Sam!" The voice cut through the blackness. It was rough, hardened, but unmistakable. Sam's eyes snapped open and he focused in on Dean. His brother was standing over him with a gun trained at his head.

Sam stared into his brother's eyes, his own dull and barely comprehending as his heart beat a mile a minute and his breaths like gasps.

"Nuh... De-" Sam rasps, starting to reach out to his brother. Instead, his hand fell off the cot and hung there.

Dean watched with distaste and kept his gun level.

"S'it really you?" He barked and Sam quaked as his eyes widened. He tried to shake his head, clearly starting to panic.

"Sh..Shhh..." His voice trembled as he angled his eyes straight from the gun to Dean's face and back to the gun.

"Puh... puh... Shhhoo..."

Sam's eyes started to water and tears slipped down his face. Dean could tell he was begging.

"Dean, don't," Cas's gravelly voice reverberated around the room. "It's him."

Sam gasped.

"No... no no no - shoot," Sam sobbed breathlessly. Dean stared down at him, eyes blazing with disgust, his finger on the trigger.

"Then why's he begging me to shoot 'im?" Dean snarled back at Cas, keeping his contemptuous gaze on Sam. Sam gasped for breath on the cot, beads of sweat rolling down his face and neck with pain and the exertion to speak.

"He thinks he deserves to die," Cas answered mournfully.

"De-Dean..." Sam rasped, reaching up and weakly grasping the cuff of his brother's jeans, "Kill... kill me now. Now-" he spasmed, his heart rate having spiked for a second, "N-Now... Before... Lucifer can f-find me an'.. an' bring me... back."

Dean watched his sniveling little brother. He flinched with repulsion at Sam's touch and bared his teeth with thinly concealed rage as he listened to Sam's pleas. He flicked the safety off the gun and readied himself. Sam's eyes widened with hope at Dean's preparatory stance.

"Dean-" Cas said, alarmed, jumping up from his chair and stepping forward.

"What?" Dean growled back, fixing Sam's forehead in his sights. "He wants this. It can end right now. A single bullet," he explained, his voice harsh and final. As he spoke, Sam's tears fell and he nodded in agreement.

"Yes... yes... please, Dean..." Sam cried, stopping Cas in his tracks. Sam's voice tapered off and Dean took a moment to consider the last words he'd say to his brother.

"This will be fast, Sam. You don't deserve it... but there will be no pain," he announced solemnly. A fresh wave of tears came over Sam as he nodded desperately. Cas watched in horror as Dean took a step closer and Sam moved his head down and stilled against the cot to make the shot easier.

Sam looked up into his brother's eyes, communicating his understanding and acceptance: what had come to pass and what must be done now. He was not afraid; not with Dean behind the trigger. He had wished for death for so long now and this - _this _ was a better death than he thought he'd ever get. Because if Dean was the one killing him... then he could trust that it was right.

"Th-thank you," Sam choked out, his honest brown eyes glittering with tragic relief. A flash of emotion flitted across Dean's features before the gunshot rang out loudly.

Sam's whole body jerked at the sound as he heard a surprised shout of pain. He curled in on the cot in agony from having moved. He blinked and looked up around the room. There in front of him, the blurry outline of his brother on his knees, hunched over and holding his shoulder.

Sam started writhing, reaching out to his brother in desperation, panic and extreme pain intermingling.

"No!" Sam keened weakly, crying, "Please... no..." Sam collapsed into wracking sobs against the cot, terrified. "Don't take me back..." he wept.

The world started darkening around the edges, tunneling his vision. He tried to hold on, but couldn't even react when he heard his brother's grunt of pain as someone knocked him out cold less than a foot away.

"De-Dean," Sam keened, his voice the merest whisper. He felt terror at the hand that pressed against him. Terror turned to confusion as Dean's soft voice sifted into his mind.

"Sammy, it's okay. It's gonna be okay. You're fine," the voice reassured. Dean's voice.

Before falling back into unconsciousness, Sam's words floated out and trailed off.

"You're not Dean..."

...

Cas grimaced as he pulled the bandage tighter around Dean's shoulder as Dean shouted in pain.

"_Careful_, Cas, Jesus..."

"Mm, sorry," Cas murmured, inwardly rolling his eyes.

"Where is he?"

Cas licked his lips and leaned back in his chair. They were upstairs in the cabin above the basement that held Sam.

"Where do you think?" He asked back, folding his arms. Dean shook his head and stared at the battered wooden table, thinking. "You going to tell him?"

Dean looked up, squinting in confusion until he realized what Cas meant.

"I didn't _do_ anything."

Cas cringed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket. He balanced the butt between his lips as he spoke.

"You gonna tell him?" He pressed, finding his lighter and lighting his cigarette. He inhaled and blew the smoke out above them, then looked back to Dean.

"No," Dean growled.

"Why?"

"It's irrelevant."

"Then why won't you tell him?"

Dean ticked his head to the side and glared at his friend. Cas disregarded it easily, immune to Dean's unspoken threats. Life was miserable as a mortal; no reason to add to it with worries that one _might_ get injured or one _might_ die.

As a sign of disrespect, Cas breezily angled his gaze off of Dean and into the distance. He considered his next words lazily, taking another puff of his cigarette and letting the smoke roll off his lips.

Finally, he leaned forward and fixed Dean with his own stare. He wasn't threatening or angry - it was nothing like the expression Dean had given him. Instead, his clear blue eyes held a glint of steadfast determination and a hint of belief that he had the best of intentions.

He took another puff of his cigarette and let go of the smoke just before he spoke.

"Dean, if you don't tell him, I will."

...

Sam was delirious with pain and while the camp had their stock of antibiotics up to date, anesthetics were a luxury.

Dean held his brother down on the cot as Sam squirmed beneath him, crying. He used the dirty washcloth to wipe him down, long strokes against his face, neck and chest.

"Calm down, calm down, no one's coming. You're safe," Dean chanted, wondering why the hell Sam wasn't relaxing like he always did at the sound of Dean's voice.

"Thah... Then I have... to go... You can't..." Sam coughed and yelled out in pain, trembling. Dean automatically leaned down and braced him, one arm under his back, the other holding the base of his head.

"Okay c'mon, calm down," Dean resumed, this time closer to Sam's ear.

"You can't... You don't..." Sam tried to get out. He trailed off into heaving breaths and a slow groan. Dean held him steady.

"Go to sleep, Sam. I've got ya, you hear?" he asked, pushing Sam's face back to look directly into his green eyes. "I've got ya," he repeated, eyes roaming Sam's sweaty, panicked face for recognition and acceptance of Dean's words. He didn't see it: Sam's eyes just frantically examined Dean's expression. "Sam, Sammy... Nothing's going to happen to you. _I'm_ here now," Dean tried to explain, tried to trigger his brother into remembering his role. "You're my little brother, Sam. I take care of you. I protect you," Dean said, cringing that he had to put it out there so bluntly. He felt a tear roll down his cheek and blinked more out of his eyes so he could see. Sam's mouth was opening and closing, his own tears tracking down his face. He shook his head as the rest of his body quaked in Dean's arms.

"You're not Dean. I.. I-I _saw_ Dean..." Sam whispered.

Dean pursed his lips, wondering how he was going to explain that there were two different Deans - one from five years ago: him - and one from this day and age: the broken stranger upstairs.

"That... He wasn't real, Sam. I'm real. Just focus on me," he said gently, lowering Sam down onto the cot. Keeping one hand centered on Sam's forehead, he leaned over to grab the soaking wash cloth from the basin. He rinsed it lightly and came back into Sam's view. He pushed the wet rag around Sam's face, wiping him down, then moved to his neck.

"But... But... I cah..." Sam breathed, taking another second before struggling to speak again, "called... called...for... you," he gasped out, "So, _so_ many times..."

Dean watched, surprised, as Sam's cries transformed from one's of physical pain to something else. Sam was crying out of something he was thinking and feeling, not the wounds. And apparently he had called for Dean... Called for help. And his brother hadn't come... Hadn't saved him like he'd said he would.

His heart twisted at the thought as he stared into his brother's wide brown eyes, still able see innocence. Those eyes belonged to a child - _his_ child: the kid he'd practically raised.

Dean leaned into Sam's frame of vision.

"I would have come if I could have, Sammy," he whispered, not knowing what he was talking about. It just seemed like solid answer that'd calm his little brother.

It didn't though. Sam's sobs grew worse until Dean leaned down again to hold him.

"No, I know you could have," Sam groaned, depression and anguish filtering through his pain-laced hysteria. "I knew... I know... I _saw_ you."

Dean hugged his brother, but curiosity got the better of him.

"Saw me what, Sammy?" He asked gently.

"I s-saw it... When... you... gave up on me," Sam twisted his head to the side, refusing to look at his big brother's reaction.

Dean stilled, dumbstruck, then rage seeped in. He was going to shoot that bastard again, he was pretty sure.

But, in the meantime, Sam was still conscious and struggling and Dean decided to go with the truth with this one.

"Sam - Sammy," he murmured, hugging his brother down on the cot, "Listen - _listen_ to me now, Sammy," he stressed, pushing his lips to the side of Sam's head. "I have not given up on you," he said roughly. Sam trembled under him but remained quiet. "I have not given up on you," Dean repeated, this time softly, placing a gentle hand against Sam's face. He felt tears on his brother's face and brushed them off as he repeated himself for the third time. "I have not-" Sam jerked, a sob escaping, "given up on you."

Sam cried quietly beneath him and Dean shifted the side of Sam's head to press closely against his.

"You've got to go back to sleep. I don't have anything to put you out. Go to sleep, Sammy. You're safe. You're safe with me," Dean lulled his reassurances, feeling his brother finally start to relax.

Soon, Sam's breathes changed to regularity as he fell asleep to Dean's voice and touches. As soon as he was out, Dean began to lift himself up and away by small degrees. Eventually, he'd managed it without waking his brother and stepped carefully out of the room.

His pace quickened, his fury mounting, as he moved farther away from Sam and closer to where he knew his future self would be upstairs.

* * *

**Writer's Note:** Thank you for reading! And check out my short story and/or website at alexlkerr dot com if you feel like it! Also, please comment/review on this chapter if you can spare a minute! I love hearing from you guys!


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